


Hangover

by marzichan



Category: Homestuck, MS Paint Adventures
Genre: AU, M/M, Superstuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-05
Updated: 2012-03-05
Packaged: 2017-11-01 04:22:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/351892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marzichan/pseuds/marzichan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jake wakes up sore and hungover, confused about the events of the night before. Too bad he's not alone. Superstuck AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hangover

**Author's Note:**

> Superstuck is a Homestuck AU based in a world where supervillains and superheroes are a common sight. In this AU, Jake is both a supervillain called General Terror and the son of the infamous Lord English. You can find out more by visiting [this page.](http://generalterror.tumblr.com/faq) This story was originally posted [here](http://generalterror.tumblr.com/post/13664178526/you-dont-remember-what-happened-last-night-this) on Tumblr.

You don’t remember what happened last night. This thought occurs to you soon after you first stir, groaning softly into your pillow. Your head is killing you. Why? Wait, didn’t Ms. Lalonde throw a party? You supplied your lair for the shindig, as well as several plates of little finger sandwiches, and she brought the drinks—

Oh. That was probably a stupid thing to agree to.

You try to shift, but something restrains you. You blink a few times, sleepy and confused, feeling a little irritable due to your aching head. Why the devil-fucking dickens can’t you get out of bed?

The answer is: there is a pair of robotic arms wrapped around your waist.

“Huh?” The metal is warm, thanks to the heat your own body has been radiating all night. As you struggle to understand just why there are arms locked around you, a familiar speaks near your ear.

“It seems you are awake.” Otto nuzzles the back of your neck, gently, and the unexpected contact makes you freeze in place. “How are you feeling?”

“You— I— buh—” You babble helplessly, his presence in what is clearly your bed making no sense. You shove away the top blankets, intending to twist and confront him, when the sudden cold air alerts you to the next alarming piece of the what-the-fuck-happened-last-night puzzle.

You’re naked.

“AH!! Otto, unhand me at once! Where are my clothes!? W-what are you even doing in here!?” You splutter in indignation and embarrassment, trying to pull free… but he doesn’t let you. Oh, he lets you shift until you’re facing him, but you’re still a captive in your own bed as far as he seems to be concerned.

“Shh, Jake. You’ll wake up the whole lair.” There’s a slight curve to his metal lips, as well as an affectionate gleam in his orange eyes that you don’t remember being there the day before. “You also did not answer my question. Are you sore? Was I too rough?”

Your grouchy demands of why the hell you would even be sore from sleeping die on your lips when you notice that _he_ is naked too. Now, technically, once could say that he’s always naked, given the fact that he’s a robot. But he usually doesn’t have a startlingly large robo-dick jutting impudently out of his crotch area. That is not a feature you remember asking for OR approving, as a matter of fact.

You squeak, the sound entirely unbecoming of a villainous general with your exceptional talents. But you think you are warranted some unmanly noise when the blatant implications of the situation are staring you in the face.

“Jake?” Otto strives to reclaim your attention by moving one of his hands from your waist to your cheek, gently tracing the line of your jaw. This succeeds in distracting you from his unexpected genitals, but you use the moment as a chance to yank free of his incomplete grip and tumble out of bed.

You soon find out, the hard way, why he was trying to keep you confined to the mattress. Your legs give out on you before you can make it too far, shaking all the while as a deep aching soreness springs up in a place you’d rather not think about. “Oh god. Oh god. Oh god.” You think you might end up hyperventilating at this rate. You’re beginning to flip the fuck out.

You sit on the floor of your villainous bedroom, sprawled bare-assed on the thick green carpet, panting in shallow little gasps until Otto sits up on the bed. He stares at you with concern, his metallic brow clearly troubled.

“Jake?” He repeats your name, but that doesn’t help. “If it’s any consolation, at least pregnancy is an impossibility between the two of us.” You think he was trying to be funny. Too bad he just freaks you out even further, and you yell, loudly.

“Ahhhhhhh! I didn’t have sex with a robot last night, I didn’t!!!” You are definitely flipping the fuck out right about now. He merely stares at you, watching you flail and shout—practically crying, man you’re pathetic—before getting out of bed to collect you.

He scoops you into his warmed arms, making soothing noises and scattering light kisses across your forehead and cheeks. You actually do end up crying, because you can’t even remember what happened last night that led to you getting a giant metal dick up your ass. Why did this happen? Did everyone watch and then leave afterward? Why is Otto tending to you like this?

He waits until your tears have subsided into sullen sniffles and the occasional hiccup to sigh and speak. “You don’t remember last night, do you?” You shake your head, unwilling to speak because then you might accidentally say the word ‘sex’ out loud again and trigger another volatile chain reaction. “You kept telling me how much you cared about me, how important I was to you, how awful your life would be if I ever left… and so I confessed my feelings to you. I love you, Jake.”

You freeze in shock, all your bitter denial evaporating in an instant. He… what? He loves you? He’s already more than a henchman to you—more than a best friend—but you never wanted to force him into anything, so you never thought he would ever actually feel something for you in return. Your face heats up, rapidly going from pink to scarlet, and you glance away sheepishly.

“I… um. May have overreacted just now.” Your voice is a bit scratchy from all the crying and wailing. You clear your throat, awkwardly, and glance up into his orange eyes. He’s always made you feel safe, and things shouldn’t change now just because you apparently took your relationship with him to the next level. A happy warmth replaces the fear and humiliation in your chest, and you finally manage a little smile. “Because I love you too, Otto.”

“I already know that.” He counters with a wry smile of his own. “Unlike you, I can't drink until I black out. I remember everything that happened.” He taps his temple. “It’s all up here. And if there’s one memory I will never delete, it’s you when you told me you loved me for the first time.” He pauses. “Now, the memory of us having sex…”

Your blush worsens, and you sock him in the arm to get him to shut up, remembering too late that he’s made out of metal. You wince and shove your hand into your mouth to deal with the pain, cursing around your fingers. He was purposely baiting you, and you know it.

But you still love him anyway.


End file.
